I closed my eyes for one inhale and exhale stood waiting and small sage on the wind reminding me that I am west again so many stars...

They’re like clockwork against the far bank. Two browns holding down the midge-buffet line. Rise…rise. Count three. Rise…rise. I know how...

juxtaposed with an unlikely six hour jazz session on a straining static and likely below-the-radar bible-belt FM station             and...

on the road southeast of Ashton they climb on my left from a small fistfull of foothills out my half-open window standing then swallowed...

I sing my wisdomless parable to the again changing season. To the birds’ hushed morning selves. To the gathering blanket of snow. To the...

Midway from Chicago to LA it still hasn’t hit me. Sprawling canyon, salt flat, scrub brown and mountains crawl below. I carried on three...

When the day falls and the thin promise of neon rises, the brown liquor and beer go down easier, and with more truth, and there’s a vague...

From the Monday I received Kevin Morlock’s email inviting me to fly fish for carp on Beaver Island, to the Wednesday when the wheels of...

When we piled out into the dust and cool of the morning we were barely a quarter-mile from the end of the road. Unlike the sprawling...

There was not much room for gear. A rod tube or two and small day pack each, plus the 5-gallon survival bucket, shotgun and a waterproof...

My journal holds a breadcrumb collection from the path I just traveled. Loosely penned notes, dates, times, temps, names. Hopeful...

Electronic communications will stop somewhere short of my location for the next week. I’ll catch up with you when I get back on 7/23. Be...

Skiff full-on running out of Islamorada open water pounding wave to wave in the backcountry fleeting bottom playing tag rising and...

automatic traffic planes whine below city sound city life even in almost single-digit daylight still busy full moving this is Friday...

It’s five days shy of the new year. Holy. Crap. Not sure if it goes without saying, but every time the calendar reaches the last page and...

We were only two full days into our 10 day trip, but I felt as though we’d been in camp for weeks. It could be the comfort and confidence...

I caught some particularly good fish. #gallery-2665-1 { margin: auto; } #gallery-2665-1 .gallery-item { float: left;...

In grad school I was working on a poetry manuscript about the Mississippi Delta Blues. Two roadtrips from Virginia rolled me through...

We’re going back to Idaho. By “we” I mean Grant Taylor and me, plus a few others. To say that last year’s trip was a profound experience...

Islamorada, I’m here and everything about you is foreign to me. Timeless retro hotel and diner and marina signs. Languid, saronged women...